The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F Synopsis
If you follow my reviews/web log at all, you probably already know that I am already a zero fucks given kind of gal when it comes to, well, bullshit. In fact, my best friend had the below picture as my contact photo in his phone for years. So it should come up as no surprise that I, similar many, was drawn to this book, i) Considering information technology has the word "fuck" in the title. Duh. And, 2) Considering it'southward bright fucking orange. That said, the chum was in the water for me already based on that alone. Just when I got to this: I knew this book and I would be friends. I am And so anti-participation trophy it'south ridiculous. And that's pretty much one of the major points in this book really. But, total transparency, I read this out of curiosity and with a slim to none expectation of at that place existence anything life irresolute to take abroad from information technology. Don't get me wrong, color me surprised, I thought this book made a lot of solid points. I definitely practise call back this book has something to offer. And that's okay. Equally I said, it made good points - none of which the author attempted to claim creating - he simply wrote it downward in an like shooting fish in a barrel, witty, sometimes offensive and conversational fashion with examples of his ain life and personal epiphanies. It did get a little ridiculous sometimes with how much he referred to his one-time "bangs all the ladies" beliefs. He also definitely walked a fine line when discussing sure bug as they pertain to women. Not gonna prevarication though, correct or wrong, this volume definitely appealed to my snarky, crass kind of humor, reminding me once again that I obviously have the personality and sense of humour of a dude. But whatevers. That's non a fuck I care to requite, manifestly.
And, no, I don't care if that offends all the middle course helicopter moms and their special snowflakes.
Your kid needs to learn how to lose.
That's how character is built, my friends.
That and, simply put, prioritizing where you put your emotional energy aka your fucks.
Stuff I accept a solid a handle on already.
Some really skilful, well articulated ones actually.
For example, information technology reminded me that I demand to stop hoping my sister and I form a BFF Sweetness Valley High-esque sis friendship and have the fact that we are 35+ fucking years quondam and information technology's only not gonna happen.
And that's okay. She only texts me when she wants or needs something and, while nosotros love and respect each other - we just aren't all THAT.
We get it, you are a walking dream machine. *eye roll*
Information technology as well contradicted itself a bit in some areas, though nothing detrimental in my eyes.
Feminists and just some women in full general will Not capeesh this book.
Masterpiece, incredibly funny. i don't usally go for self assistance books cause to me they are notwithstanding! Smile more, love more, hate less, don't give upward, it'due south gonna be okay, information technology'due south all in your head. Blah blah blah.... but this one was the exception. Anything with expletive words on the encompass picks my interest :P The showtime one-half of it was my favorite, the aim of this book is to assistance the reader to think a niggling fleck more than clearly virtually what they're choosing to find important in life and what they're choosing to find unimportant. These are few of my favrite quotes in this volume: The desire for more positive experience is itself a negative feel. And, paradoxically, the acceptance of one'southward negative experience is itself a positive experience. Self-improvement and success ofttimes occur together. But that doesn't necessarily hateful they're the same thing. Ironically, this fixation on the positive—on what's better, what's superior—only serves to remind u.s. over and over again of what we are not, of what nosotros lack, of what we should accept been but failed to be. Afterward all, no truly happy person feels the need to stand up in front of a mirror and recite that she's happy. She just is. Anybody and their TV commercial wants you lot to believe that the primal to a skillful life is a nicer task, or a more rugged car, or a prettier girlfriend, or a hot tub with an inflatable pool for the kids. The globe is constantly telling you that the path to a better life is more, more than, more—buy more, own more, make more than, fuck more, be more than. You are constantly bombarded with messages to give a fuck about everything, all the time. Give a fuck virtually a new Boob tube. Requite a fuck about having a better holiday than your coworkers. Give a fuck about buying that new backyard decoration. Give a fuck about having the right kind of selfie stick. The Feedback Loop from Hell There's an insidious quirk to your encephalon that, if you permit it, can bulldoze y'all absolutely batty. Tell me if this sounds familiar to you lot: You get anxious most confronting somebody in your life. That anxiety cripples yous and yous showtime wondering why yous're so broken-hearted. Now you're becoming anxious near being anxious. Oh no! Doubly anxious! Now you lot're anxious about your anxiety, which is causing more anxiety. Quick, where's the whiskey?
Our culture today is obsessively focused on unrealistically positive expectations: Be happier. Exist healthier. Be the best, meliorate than the rest. Be smarter, faster, richer, sexier, more pop, more than productive, more envied, and more admired. Be perfect and amazing and crap out twelve-karat-gold nuggets before breakfast each morn while kissing your selfie-ready spouse and two and a half kids goodbye. And so fly your helicopter to your wonderfully fulfilling task, where you spend your days doing incredibly meaningful piece of work that's likely to save the planet one solar day.
Has everyone been unfortunate plenty to exist sitting in a pub/restaurant, enjoying the ambience and maybe a meal, and out of nowhere, a rather drunk individual parks himself abreast yous, grinning profusely, and then just doesn't end talking about his life, your life and everything HE thinks that you should be doing, just without any solid proof to dorsum himself upwards? I take, and this book past Marking Manson made me feel like I was back in that pub, just with an even dodgier private attempting to give me life lessons. Seeing this book for the first fourth dimension, I'll admit, I was pretty revved up about reading it. I mean, lets be honest, a bright orangish embrace with "The subtle fine art of not giving a f*ck" boldly plastered on it, you can hardly miss it. Manson began the first few capacity with a lot of "Fuck this, fuck that, fuck you" kind of attitude. I can have cursing, but this, was kind of tiring. This was similar listening to a young person that has simply discovered the art of cursing. Information technology sucked. There were some interesting points, merely y'all need to dig deep to find them. I found that this book had mostly opinions, with a few hidden facts chucked in for good measure. I cannot empathize how Romeo and Juliet could be brought into this book, then a couple of pages afterward, Buddhism, and then many fucks afterwards, he is telling us that HE is amazing, as he has the audacity to inform his wife when she looks shitty, and, best of all, apparently she loves that. I just don't buy it.
The volume began with an introduction, which fabricated me experience like this was was going to be a truly life changing read. Well, from the words "Chapter 1" it all took a swift olfactory organ dive.
For me, this book is just a preachy retelling of stuff we already know, written by an average male person and, I'm still trying to understand what possessed me to spend actual coin on this! Admittedly no fucks given.
I'm not really done nevertheless, but this book is becoming more problematic by the folio. In re: false memories and page 128: False memories are absolutely a thing. But when the example you use to illustrate this fact is a 1980's feminist who falsely accused her father of abuse and y'all follow up with "in the early 1980s and 1990s hundreds of innocent people were wrongly defendant of sexual violence under similar circumstances. Many of them went to prison house for it" you are being supremely irresponsible. The casual reader who is not familiar with sexual violence and rape and corruption could hands walk abroad with the impression that survivors of sexual assault oft brand upward their assault. This is utterly, utterly untrue - we know that rape and incest are some of the near under reported and under prosecuted crimes, and that the possibility of not being believed plays a big part in that. *** Finally finished. 1 star. You don't need to read this book.
I knew afterward the start chapter that I probably wasn't the intended audition for this book. Well-nigh of it was sort of a "duh" for me, but I continued on in hopes I would learn something new...WOW, this author is SO self-indulgent. He misses no opportunity to remind us near what a complete "fuckboi" he was in his twenties. The problem with this is that his tone (and the fact that he brings it up over and over and over and over again) makes it audio similar it is about a indicate of pride rather than something to be remorseful nearly. There are a lot of (re-packaged Buddhist and psych) truth nuggets in here, only they're definitely mired in a lot of privileged bullshit.
I started out liking this book, I really did. By the time I was halfway in, his smug attitude well-nigh things he frankly knows jack shit about were getting on my nerves. He made some fantabulous points, all of which take been fabricated countless times past other, more competent writers. Read Sartre, Camus, Siddhartha past Herman Hesse, and diverse Buddhist texts instead. Regurgitating Eastern philosophy and existentialism while swearing a lot only gets you and then far. I stopped reading and returned this volume.
It'south a very surface level look at Stoicism and western Buddhism aimed at dudebros. It has some good things to say, and it'due south a decent introduction to some smashing concepts, just information technology'south pretty cringe and misogynistic. I would advise Why Buddhism is True and The Practicing Stoic instead as much better books to read that encompass the same ground more in depth, without any of the negatives.
What a load of self-indulgent, sexist codswallop.
Have you always been in a bar and had a know-it-all tell you everything you demand to know nigh life without any evidence to back up what he's saying? That's what this volume felt like.
Definitely written by and for directly, white, entitled males. I accept no fucks to give for this book or the author.
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